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"My mum, Betty, died suddenly in the early hours of New Year's Eve 1998, aged 62. I still vividly remember that following cold damp dismal Sunday afternoon, going through my mother's address book, telephoning her friends and also my friends and wondering what to say and how to say it.

There have been several times I've informed people about the deaths of those with whom they'd lost regular contact and they've been very grateful so that they could write a note of condolence to the bereaved or attend the funeral. Then again I've learnt of deaths much later afterwards and really wished I'd known at the time but it was too late.

I empathise completely with comments made by those bereaved or directly affected that mentioning a death can feel embarrassing. I know. I felt embarrassed. Others have said that it can feel like gossiping which is the very last thing they ever intended. Yes it can seem like gossiping. So people remain quiet. Those bereaved can feel isolated and avoided just because nobody knows what to say since they feel awkward too.

I was really taken aback at the support I felt from receiving all the cards and letters from family and friends after mum's death. I had never realised how important it is to have people let you know that they are thinking of you. Even if they keep away - and often we need that initial distance for our own private grieving - then just to know that they are there is such a spiritual wealth. It was to me anyway and I know that dad felt the same.

Those condolences kept us going. That sea of faces at mum's funeral still brings a warm smile. A nice feeling.

Recently I've been thinking if only there was a service where anybody can select the people they wish to be informed upon their death. It could help those left behind so much.

Here it is."

Nick Boulton, founder of A Future Day, October 2008, Chiddingfold, Surrey, UK